Conversation in a Coffin
by YYHfan-KB
Summary: The boys are stuck again, this time however their conversation isn't so light hearted and things get serious quickly.
1. In Which Things Are Cramped

**Conversation in a Coffin**

_A/N_ Before you start reading I want to warn anyone who reads this one, chapter two isn't going to be the most pleasant of chapters, there will be quite the nasty little backstory in it. However, if you wish to read this story for the humor only I recommend skipping chapter two and going straight to three. You won't miss out on the storyline I promise.

* * *

"John would you oh so kindly remove your elbow from my lower ribs?"

"I'm barely touching you Sherlock, besides, there isn't exactly much room in here."

"At least our oxygen supply is plentiful, they did have the courtesy to install large pipes for air."

"Which means we get to starve to death, Sherlock, why is it that we seem to be landing in these situations so often? Honestly, people are going to start to talk even more than they already do."

"People always talk John, its so boring to have to listen to trivial gossip that isn't true or even possible."

"..."

"John, you wouldn't happen to have your phone with you would you? They took mine.."

"Yes but unfortunately it's dead."

"You didn't happen to tell anyone that we were going out by any chance did you Sherlock?"

"Of course not, why would I?"

"Ugh, Sherlock you idiot, I thought you had told someone, I saw you texting just before we left and thought you had told Greg."

"Who is Greg?"

"Lestraude you idiot, Greg Lestraude, how long have you worked with the man and you still don't know his name?"

"It's unimportant, why should I know it? Besides, I was harassing Mycroft about his inability to keep a diet."

"Great, you pissed off our best chance at recovery."

"Nonsense, he'll notice our absence from London and start looking for us soon. Speaking of recovery, how's your side? I know the burly dude knifed you."

"It's still bleeding a bit, should probably find a way to stop it, can I borrow your scarf?"

"Must you? I rather like this scarf..."

"I'll replace it."

"Fine, here, it's better than having you bleed out beside me."

"Ngh, it's soaked the lining around me. I'm starting to get lightheaded Sherlock."

"Stay awake John, talk about something, anything."

"Right...remember that time we were stuck under a stairwell?"

"Yes..."

"I definitely preferred that one despite the spider."

"Gah, that was a horrible experience, I had the stiffest back in human history afterwards."

"As I recall you ended up sitting on me for most of the time."

"True, and you do make a very good cushion."

"You're still a bony devil."

"I thought we agreed to drop that argument?"

"Who said I was arguing? I'm just saying it because it's true."

"You know I think I left my skull on the landing, poor Yorrick..."

"Sherlock! You know Mrs. Hudson will have a heart attack if she sees that skull on the landing!"

"Nonsense John, she's a fairly healthy woman for her age, it is highly unlikely that her heart will be affected."

"..."

"..."

"Sherlock, what are the odds of us getting out of here?"

"Well...without our phones, lack of food and water, the factor that no one knew we were chasing down a pair of psychopaths, and the fact that we are no longer in London all add up to give us a chance of say, forty seven percent."

"Oh great... Sherlock... I just remembered something, the other day when Mycroft came by I swiped his brolly from him...he was a tad bit upset about that..."

"It shouldn't affect his effort to rescue us."

"He's going to gloat isn't he.."

"..."

"..."


	2. In Which the Painful Past Comes to Light

_A/N _Just a brief reminder/warning, this chapter may contain triggers and is the reason this fic is rated the way it is. Please, if you are sensitive to the topics of abuse and/or rape this is a chapter you should probably skip.

* * *

"John are you still awake?"

"Yeah, this wound brought back some old memories."

"Ah..."

"..."

"..."

"Harry's been drinking again."

"Oh lovely, has she drunk called you again recently?"

"Yeah, several times."

"Has she ever tried AA?"

"Several times without luck, she never makes it past the second meeting."

"Commitment issues?"

"Yeah..."

"Why do you even bother trying to do anything to help her?"

"She's the only family I have left Sherlock, besides, I can actually understand part of why she does drink as much as she does."

"Why is that?"

"Our childhood wasn't exactly all roses and sunshine, we had some rough times."

"I remember you mentioning that your father had been a drunk..."

"Yeah, he definitely was a drunk bastard."

"Do you...um, want to talk about it John?"

"You'll probably find it boring."

"It concerns you John, I doubt that it will be boring, besides, you need to keep talking so you don't fall asleep."

"Well, I...uh... alright if you really want to know I'll tell you since I do trust you, as crazy as that may seem to some people. I was seven and Harry was thirteen when our mother came home to tell us that she was going to have a baby. Father was ecstatic, Harry didn't really care, and I was excited that I would get to be an older brother."

"This sounds like a bad plot from a romance novel..."

"Shut it Sherlock, or I won't talk."

"Fine."

"Anyways, as I was saying, dad had always wanted a big family and everyone seemed to be happy, we were all a great family, no real arguments, other than when Harry would get into fights at school and say she had done nothing wrong. The first three months after mother told us she was pregnant flew by, and on February the third Harry came down with some sort of virus. She had a really bad cough that she just couldn't shake and we didn't have anything in the house to help her so mother decided to go to the store to pick up cough syrup.  
No one thought anything of it, but that day was when the nightmare started. I wanted to go with her to the store so I persuaded her to let me come too, we were halfway there when a truck driver lost control of his vehicle and slammed into us. I still remember the car crumpling like a tin can, mother was injured pretty badly and I miraculously came out of it with only a few scratches and bruises. I was sitting stunned when the EMT's got to us, they got me out first then they had to cut the door off the drivers side to get to mother. I remember we were rushed to the hospital and mother was taken immediately to surgery leaving me to sit alone and scared in the waiting area."

"John if it's too painful..."

"No, I need to tell you all of it for you to understand, it might take a while though."

"Take all the time you need, we won't be going anywhere anytime soon."

"Alright... I was waiting and waiting for what seemed like forever before father showed up when he did though he completely ignored me and went straight for the nearest nurse to see if anyone could tell him how mother was, the woman kept shaking her head trying to explain that she had no idea of the current situation. It wasn't but ten minutes later though that the doctor came out of surgery with a very grim look. He explained to all three of us that mother had sustained major injuries to her lower abdomen and as a result had lost the baby.  
As if that wasn't bad enough he told us that mother's uterus had been removed since the damage done had been so extensive. She could never have another child. Two weeks later she was released from the hospital to come home as long as she was on bed rest. Harry and I tried to cheer her up but she just seemed to be a ghost of her former self.  
Father had been drinking almost nonstop, his pain and anger had been accumulating over the past two weeks. The alcohol started to bring out the worst in him, he went from blaming the truck driver to placing all the blame on Harry and I. Harry got the worst of it, he would call her so many names, bitch, whore, idiot, etc., and then he started hitting her. I tried so hard to make him stop but all that did was make him angrier and he would beat me too.  
As the days turned into weeks he started drinking even more, his beatings and hurtful words got worse, and mother did nothing to stop him. She was so far gone into her own little world of hurt that she would just watch blankly as he whipped us over and over again. After two and a half years of lying to teachers and enduring his wrath we were miserable. Just when I thought things couldn't possibly get any worse mother took her life, she had collected as many pain killers as she could and took them all at once.  
Her funeral was so hard to be at, father was falling down drunk and sobbing about how much he loved his wife and wished he had seen what had been going on before it was too late. Once it was over and we were home again he started drinking everything he could get his hands on, Harry and I hid in her room in hopes of avoiding him.  
It seemed to be working for a little while but just before nine o'clock he came crashing in, the stench of alcohol burned my nose as he stomped past me headed straight for Harry. He insulted her, told her mother's death was all her fault and started punching her in the stomach so hard she puked twice. I tried to stop him but he backhanded me so hard I cracked a tooth and crumpled to the floor in pain.  
I watched helpless as he pulled Harry to her knees by her hair, and then he...he did the vilest thing on earth. He ripped her clothes off and forced himself on her. I remember her screaming and pleading for him to stop, that it was hurting her, and I couldn't seem to summon the strength or courage to do something. He kept slapping her as he raped her, his big nasty hands groped her everywhere as he dragged his dirty nails down her bruised and battered skin. I found the strength to stand and tackle him from behind after witnessing him defile my sister.  
I bit him savagely on the back of his leg, I could taste blood and sweat intermingling in my mouth. He let out a howl of pain and turned his wrath on me, I was kicked so hard I felt my ribs crack, Harry had passed out from shock.  
He beat me until I was nearly unconscious, then he threw me into Harry's closet. I couldn't stand, every part of me ached and I was bleeding from so many cuts and whelps I thought I was dying. Then he tossed Harry into the closet as well, her naked body was so badly battered there wasn't an inch of skin not bruised. He slammed the door shut on us, leaving us in nearly total darkness. I remember laying there dazed before attempting to help Harry who had come to and was crying in the corner trying to cope with what had just happened.  
I managed to stand long enough to pull a pair of her sweat pants off the shelf and a t-shirt for her before collapsing again. It took her a long while before she dressed herself, I just laid there in shock of witnessing something so brutally wrong. Beatings we could handle, rape was another story, it took a nasty mental toll on me and an even bigger one on Harry.  
It was hours before he let us out of the closet, Harry walked in a daze to the bathroom to clean herself off while I limped to my room trying not to cry from the pain in my side. That night after he fell into a drunken sleep Harry came to my room and promised me that as soon as she could move out she would and she was going to take me with her. She said she would protect me from him the best she could but I knew she was terrified of father and protecting each other was only spreading the pain. The next few years were hellish, Harry started high school and got in with the wrong crowd. She started smoking and doing drugs to help escape from the pain while I tried to keep out of father's way at home. Then her senior year she was arrested for drug possession and was taken to jail. She never came back to save me, I became father's only available target for his aggression."

"John he didn't..."

"He did, he raped me as well, I was the only one left, and so I became a scapegoat for all the bad things that had happened to him. I barely made it through high school without arousing too many suspicions as to what was going on, whenever asked I would just say I had hurt myself or fallen. I was seventeen when he disappeared from my life, he walked out one late night to get more booze and never came back. I joined the army shortly thereafter and the rest is history."

"...John, I'm so sorry."

"..."

"Do you have any idea as to if he's still alive? If so I doubt if his lifespan is going to last much longer."

"He's probably dead Sherlock, they never found the body."

"I see."

"I've never told anyone what happened as I was growing up, I chose to bury the past by acting like it never happened, and Harry chose to drink it away."

"I am...honored that you trust me enough to tell me about your past John, it truly is a painful thing to have experienced all that."

"Yeah...but please Sherlock not a word to anyone else about it?"

"Of course John, this stays between us like it should."

"..."

"..."


	3. In Which There is a Close Call

"John, you had better not have fallen asleep."

"..."

"John?"

"..."

"John if you don't wake up I swear I will poke you."

"...I'm awake, and seriously? All you can think of is to poke me?"

"Well there isn't much I can do to you while in a coffin you know."

"Some people would take that the wrong way."

"Don't be so lewd John, you know what I meant."

"..."

"..."

"I'm afraid your scarf is thoroughly soaked now, along with all my right side and the lining of the coffin on this side."

"Hang on a little longer John, I know its hard to but they'll find us soon."

"I'm hoping, but I doubt that I'll last much longer, this is pretty deep, and its still not showing much in the way of stopping if I don't get it stitched soon I'm going to need a blood transfusion."

"You can't die on me John, think of all the heartfelt moments you'll miss out on."

"You mean all the times I tell you to shut up because you're being annoying?"

"..."

"Thought so oh sarcastic one."

"..."

"Sherlock, where did you put my gun?"

"I...um...oh dear..."

"What?"

"I may have left it in my bedroom or on the couch..."

"Great, so now if Lestraude decides he needs you and comes barging in he may or may not find the gun that I legally shouldn't have."

"Oops?"

"Is that really all you have to say Sherlock?"

"..."

"..."

"John, you didn't happen to turn off my Bunsen burner before we left did you?"

"No..."

"Damn, I hope my silver isn't burnt..."

"Oh lord Sherlock, don't tell me you left your experiment with silver, acid, and copper going."

"I am fairly certain it's till burning..."

"I hope Mrs. Hudson turns it off when she goes in to tidy up..."

"I don't want her touching my experiment, she might ruin it entirely!"

"And if she doesn't turn it off the whole flat could burn up."

"Well, ah..."

"Exactly."

"..."

"..."

"John, do you feel something wet?"

"You mean my blood? That's all sticky now."

"No I mean wet as in rain."

"Sherlock, are you hallucinating? We're buried at least six feet under ground."

"..."

"Sherlock?"

"I seem to have been incorrect."

"What?"

"The chances of us getting out of here, we've only got about thirty nine percent chance now."

"Are you trying to scare me?"

"No, we've been in here too long Mycroft should have found us already, those two idiot psychos left a trail a mile wide."

"I see."

"..."

"..."

"By the way, the snake in my bed the other night was not an amusing thing to find."

"I wanted to test how people react to snakes, the next on my list is Molly."

"I'll make sure to warn her."

"Don't! That will ruin my experiment."

"You are not putting a snake in the M.E.'s office Sherlock! Molly would die of fright, she hates snakes."

"But John..."

"Absolutely not."

"What if I were to give it to Mycroft instead?"

"That's fine, I might even help you with that."

"Alright!"

"Or maybe you should give it to Anderson."

"I wouldn't inflict Anderson on anyone, not even a snake."

"..."

"..."

"Sherlock, I know this might sound odd, but what do you plan on doing if you get to the point where you can't, you know, work anymore as a detective?"

"I've given it some consideration, I think I might take up beekeeping."

"Really?"

"Yes, bees are fascinating creatures, they work so hard and yet they are replaced so easily."

"I see, never would have really pictured you as a beekeeper."

"What about you John?"

"I guess I haven't really thought about it, eventually you won't need me around or you just won't want me around because I'll become one of those boring old men who don't do much."

"Nonsense, I'll never get bored of having you around John."

"That's...quite the compliment Sherlock, thank you."

"You're welcome, after all, you are my best friend and you've saved my hide often enough to deserve a special place in my mind palace."

"What do you mean by special place?"

"Well, the area I keep all of your data in is actually modeled after 221B. I associate you with home and comfort, safety and friendship. I know that I wouldn't have come this far without you, there are countless times I would have died without you assisting me."

"..."

"..."

"Sherlock, am I hearing things or is that an engine of some sort?"

"..."

"..."

"It's not a street vehicle, it sounds more like a piece of heavy machinery."

"That doesn't exactly bode well for us. Should we shout for help?"

"I doubt that anyone will hear us over that thing up there, but we can try."

"HELP! WE'RE DOWN HERE!"

"..."

"No luck."

"..."

"..."

"John? Are you hearing what I'm hearing?"

"I think so, and if it's what I think it is we're in big trouble."

"A commercial drill, quickly John! Roll to your right, get away from the center of the coffin!"

*a loud snap is heard as the drill bites into the coffin lid*

"I think I'm choking on dirt."

"..."

"John?!"

"..."

"JOHN! SOMEONE HELP US PLEASE!"

"..."

"John the drill is moving out again, I think they heard me, please answer me John, you can't die after all this."

"Sherlock? I-"

"John, its alright, breathe slowly, that's right, just keep breathing, I can hear the people above us digging for us."

"I don't know how much longer I'm going to last Sherlock."

"Dammit, I am not going to have you die now! Not after all the truly heart to heart conversation we've had."

"OI! Is anyone alive down there?"

"YES! My friend is badly injured but alive, please, we need to get him to a hospital."

"Sherlock... I can't breathe..."

"John you have to stay awake."

"We're almost through! Hold on tight!"

"John?"

"John!"

"Easy mister, we've got you now, we've called for an ambulance."

"They have to hurry, he's dying."

* * *

"How did you both fit in a coffin Sherlock?"

"I suspect it was custom made, the pair we were after were undertakers Mycroft, really you should have known that already."

"I see."

"..."

"..."

"Brother, there is no reason to worry so much, John is tough, he'll pull through."

"I just want to be here for him when he wakes up."

"Very well little brother, give him my regards."

"Whatever, pompous git."

"..."

"..."

"Sherlock? Where are we?"

"We're safe again John, currently we're in the hospital and to be specific you've been in surgery and I.C.U."

"How long was I out?"

"Almost twelve hours, I've been here for most of it."

"Wow..."

"Lestraude is in the process of catching our kidnappers."

"Good, good, how long till we get out of here?"

"I'm not entirely sure, now that you're awake it should speed things along."

"Alright."

"John?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm glad you didn't die."

"Me too Sherlock, I wouldn't have made it without you to talk to though."

"I just...don't want to lose my best friend."

"I know you big sap, will you do me a favor when we make it home?"

"Anything."

"Will you play me the Four Seasons by Vivaldi?"

"Gladly, now, we should probably let the doctors examine you."

"Alright."

* * *

"John! Sherlock! Where have you two boys been? You left your Bunsen burner on Sherlock and I thought for certain it would burn the whole place down!"

"I'm sorry Mrs. Hudson, it hopefully won't happen again, right John?"

"Right, up until we decide to go haring off after some psychopath or mafia member."

"Well you two go clean up and I'll make you some tea alright?"

"That sounds wonderful Mrs. Hudson, Sherlock will you help me up the stairs? I think the painkillers are affecting me still."

"I suppose I can assist you, my dear friend."


End file.
